SHINY BOOTS
I walk along in my big, black, shiny boots.
"It isn't even raining today!" my mother yelled at me.
I knew it was not raining. I wore the boots, not to keep my feet dry, but because I like these boots.
I got the boots two months ago. We heard there was going to be a terrible storm, and I needed some rain boots. The storm never came and the boots ended up at the back of my closet. Yesterday though, while trying to find a shirt, I found these boots and saw them in a new light. I realized that I really like these boots.
Throughout the day people snicker and point at me, silly old Jimmy, because of my TANKS masquerading as boots. I do not care though because I like these boots.
I like the color, I like the feel, I like the rubbery smell. I just really like these boots.
Skateboarding
sand paper grip tape,
under rubber soles.
the more I kick,
the quicker it rolls.
feel every imperfection,
of the road I glide.
Slowly becomes part of me
as I ride.
as I crouch,
fall into my groove,
think about,
my next move.
Hope I won't,
bust my lip,
trying to land,
this kickflip.
Slide right foot back,
push down in rear,
move left foot up,
then pull it near.
All these thoughts,
run so fast,
must complete them,
before this moments passed.
In these seconds,
in the air,
I try to add,
too much flair.
As I fall,
"OH NO!", I cry,
Im no professional
skater guy.
Life flashes by,
as I race,
into the pavement,
with my face.
reluctantly,
as I bleed,
I get back up,
on my feet.
spit out some blood,
then I swear,
unfortunately,
too much I care.
Jump back on,
to try again.
This time I hope,
that I win.
crouched down,
I restart,
maybe if I give it,
just a little more heart.
Go through the movements,
just a bit more gentle,
flowing through me,
oh so natural.
My wheels,
safe on the ground.
My heart,
begins to pound.
Feet planted,
safely on wood,
that trick,
not just good,
better than that,
it was amazing,
oh how I think,
I will love skating. On Being Prepared
I sat up. I looked around and saw the shocked faces of my family. For some reason that none of us were completely certain of, we had just been forcefully evacuated from my uncle Bill’s garage and ended up scattered about in various places on the ground. I thought back; about a minute ago we had all been sitting, laughing and joking, in the garage, nicknamed “the Pit Stop”, then there had been a flash, a boom, and then darkness. I remembered the feeling of the red, plastic covered foam scraping down my back while I was folding up into the chair; the sight of the ceiling disappearing during my exit through the air, the feeling of my back sliding down the cement driveway. Sitting around, startled and confused, we all turned our heads and saw flames erupting through the roof and right wall, where our friend had painted Dale Earnhardt’s car for my uncle’s birthday two years before. Next I heard sirens and clambered to my feet, shaky, hurt, and for some reason tingly.
“What happened?” I questioned.
“I don’t know, but that was crazy.” replied my cousin Kassandra. Soon after, we all figured out that as we sat, enjoying ourselves, the garage had been struck by lightning. That probably should have been our first guess seeing as how there was a raging thunderstorm outside. I ran back around the corner of the street over to my other aunt’s house. I told my cousin Skye what had happened. She just brushed it off and walked away. I figured it was all over but as I sat down on the couch, another lightning bolt hit right in front of the window. Luckily that was my final encounter with lightning that day.
From this entire adventure what I learned was that at any given time you should be prepared for absolutely anything to happen. As I was sitting in the Pit Stop, I was not prepared for a lightning attack, and I paid for my lack of awareness. Being prepared for anything means nothing can come at you as a surprise. If you assume the worst, you will be ready for the worst.
If you begin to assume that when you pull out of your driveway the brand new Ford Focus from down the road is going to blow through the rear end of your car, you might stop and look before backing out. Stop. Look. Now instead of causing you thousands of dollars in property damage, the driver of the Focus happily waves at you as he drives past. Say, when you got in the car, you instead think, “I have no fears today, I am incredible”. Well, this time you pull out of the driveway without a glance. Not even half a second later, BANG, the whole back half of your car has been reduced to three inches wide and you are in the hospital, ‘mildly concussed’, the doctor says. It pays to be skeptical.
If that big guy at work does not like you, assume the worst. Fist. Face. Blood. If you are prepared for knuckles, you will be more than ready for any verbal abuses he can give. If you are sitting in your uncle’s garage during a thunderstorm, assume that the garage is going to be struck by lightning. If you are braced for the strike and it never comes, you feel as if you have made a small little victory over nature’s guerrilla terrorisms. If the lightning does strike however, you will be ready and waiting to fly through the air thinking, “At least I knew this was going to happen”.
When you prepare for the worst, occasionally your preparations come into play. Generally, however, you will find that by preparing for the worst you are over prepared, and this feeling is one of great joy. When you are ready for death, and instead are granted life, it is as though you have won some major battle. That may seem a little too heavy. Instead, if you are prepared to fail your test, and then you get an A, you will suddenly be as happy as a baby with a new toy.
James Spence The Penguin Slowly I waddle over ice and snow Back to the place my eggs are I must go Up to the high top of a hill I climb Down on my belly I will get to slide I will quickly slide way down this hill Now off the edge I fall although I flap My wings no use in water ice I plunge Okay though ice water my second home My wings push forward water torpedo Swimming straight up towards the icy shelf Oh no remember got to check for leopard seals, dodge left dodge right swim fast in fright the surface breaks the ground I feel on to my eggs I waddle still, again next year.
Snowboarding Carving through white snow Down this mountain I will go Sliding through fresh powder Lean left, lean right Keep my speed slight Carving through white snow Swerving past a tree Reaching out after me Sliding through fresh powder See that bump Or is it a jump Carving through white snow Falling now at fast pace And I am down on my face Sliding through fresh powder Roll back to my feet Feel kind of sweet Carving through white snow Sliding through fresh powder.
Memoir Piece I was in. I had been accepted. I was going to this training academy. A lot of people signed up for this opportunity, but they chose me. I felt like I had joined some sort of club. We were going to go to this academy to learn all about computers for the military. Apparently there are computers in the military now. Why did they choose me? To be honest I have no idea. I have never done anything with computers. I’m from a farm; the closest thing we have to a computer is the stove, and I’m not even completely sure how that thing works. Either they just saw me and thought, “Hey, that kid would be good with computers”, or they thought, “That kid would never survive doing anything in the field. Let’s put him on computers.” Probably that second one. Either way, I’m going. It’s pretty lucky. I didn’t actually even want to join the military, me and some buddies were just sitting around and one of them said, “Let’s go enlist!” Looking back, we probably could have thought this decision through just a little bit more. To tell you the truth though, it sounded like a really good idea at the time. We all jumped in Johnny’s truck to go to the recruiter’s office. I set down the pen and feel as if I just signed my life away. I want to cry. No wait all the guys are here, “I want to go shoot some people OH YEAH!” What have I done? “Man this is gonna be awesome!” Biggest mistake of my life. “I am SO glad we did this.” I am a blender of emotion making a mixed drink on a beach somewhere. Unfortunately that beach is currently under attack. Jump to me taking a test. I fill in bubbles because they tell me to. The military has soaked into my brain. I follow orders, I run drills, I practice firing, and I make my bed in five seconds. Today though, my job is to darken circles with my standard issue number two pencil. Why? Because I’m taking a test. What kind of test? I don’t really know. Apparently I’m not an important enough part of me taking a test to know exactly what test I’m taking or why. This is why they train us. Do what you are ordered to do and do not ask questions. A few weeks later, I am notified that the results to the test are in. No one else knows about the test. They take me to a small room and sit me down in a small metal chair.A very large man comes in. “Well, you passed.” He leaves the room. Jump to me being shipped off to some big standard issue grey warehouse. Inside are at least fifty computers. The hum of electricity and keyboard chatter fill the room to an almost unbearable level. This is where I’m going to learn all about computers. This is what my country wants from me. Go shoot some people? No. Punch keys all day to execute military actions. Do what you are ordered to do and do not ask questions.
SHINY BOOTS
I walk along in my big, black, shiny boots.
"It isn't even raining today!" my mother yelled at me.
I knew it was not raining. I wore the boots, not to keep my feet dry, but because I like these boots.
I got the boots two months ago. We heard there was going to be a terrible storm, and I needed some rain boots. The storm never came and the boots ended up at the back of my closet. Yesterday though, while trying to find a shirt, I found these boots and saw them in a new light. I realized that I really like these boots.
Throughout the day people snicker and point at me, silly old Jimmy, because of my TANKS masquerading as boots. I do not care though because I like these boots.
I like the color, I like the feel, I like the rubbery smell. I just really like these boots.
Skateboarding
sand paper grip tape,
under rubber soles.
the more I kick,
the quicker it rolls.
feel every imperfection,
of the road I glide.
Slowly becomes part of me
as I ride.
as I crouch,
fall into my groove,
think about,
my next move.
Hope I won't,
bust my lip,
trying to land,
this kickflip.
Slide right foot back,
push down in rear,
move left foot up,
then pull it near.
All these thoughts,
run so fast,
must complete them,
before this moments passed.
In these seconds,
in the air,
I try to add,
too much flair.
As I fall,
"OH NO!", I cry,
Im no professional
skater guy.
Life flashes by,
as I race,
into the pavement,
with my face.
reluctantly,
as I bleed,
I get back up,
on my feet.
spit out some blood,
then I swear,
unfortunately,
too much I care.
Jump back on,
to try again.
This time I hope,
that I win.
crouched down,
I restart,
maybe if I give it,
just a little more heart.
Go through the movements,
just a bit more gentle,
flowing through me,
oh so natural.
My wheels,
safe on the ground.
My heart,
begins to pound.
Feet planted,
safely on wood,
that trick,
not just good,
better than that,
it was amazing,
oh how I think,
I will love skating.
On Being Prepared
I sat up. I looked around and saw the shocked faces of my family. For some reason that none of us were completely certain of, we had just been forcefully evacuated from my uncle Bill’s garage and ended up scattered about in various places on the ground. I thought back; about a minute ago we had all been sitting, laughing and joking, in the garage, nicknamed “the Pit Stop”, then there had been a flash, a boom, and then darkness. I remembered the feeling of the red, plastic covered foam scraping down my back while I was folding up into the chair; the sight of the ceiling disappearing during my exit through the air, the feeling of my back sliding down the cement driveway. Sitting around, startled and confused, we all turned our heads and saw flames erupting through the roof and right wall, where our friend had painted Dale Earnhardt’s car for my uncle’s birthday two years before. Next I heard sirens and clambered to my feet, shaky, hurt, and for some reason tingly.
“What happened?” I questioned.
“I don’t know, but that was crazy.” replied my cousin Kassandra.
Soon after, we all figured out that as we sat, enjoying ourselves, the garage had been struck by lightning. That probably should have been our first guess seeing as how there was a raging thunderstorm outside. I ran back around the corner of the street over to my other aunt’s house. I told my cousin Skye what had happened. She just brushed it off and walked away. I figured it was all over but as I sat down on the couch, another lightning bolt hit right in front of the window. Luckily that was my final encounter with lightning that day.
From this entire adventure what I learned was that at any given time you should be prepared for absolutely anything to happen. As I was sitting in the Pit Stop, I was not prepared for a lightning attack, and I paid for my lack of awareness. Being prepared for anything means nothing can come at you as a surprise. If you assume the worst, you will be ready for the worst.
If you begin to assume that when you pull out of your driveway the brand new Ford Focus from down the road is going to blow through the rear end of your car, you might stop and look before backing out. Stop. Look. Now instead of causing you thousands of dollars in property damage, the driver of the Focus happily waves at you as he drives past. Say, when you got in the car, you instead think, “I have no fears today, I am incredible”. Well, this time you pull out of the driveway without a glance. Not even half a second later, BANG, the whole back half of your car has been reduced to three inches wide and you are in the hospital, ‘mildly concussed’, the doctor says. It pays to be skeptical.
If that big guy at work does not like you, assume the worst. Fist. Face. Blood. If you are prepared for knuckles, you will be more than ready for any verbal abuses he can give. If you are sitting in your uncle’s garage during a thunderstorm, assume that the garage is going to be struck by lightning. If you are braced for the strike and it never comes, you feel as if you have made a small little victory over nature’s guerrilla terrorisms. If the lightning does strike however, you will be ready and waiting to fly through the air thinking, “At least I knew this was going to happen”.
When you prepare for the worst, occasionally your preparations come into play. Generally, however, you will find that by preparing for the worst you are over prepared, and this feeling is one of great joy. When you are ready for death, and instead are granted life, it is as though you have won some major battle. That may seem a little too heavy. Instead, if you are prepared to fail your test, and then you get an A, you will suddenly be as happy as a baby with a new toy.
James Spence
The Penguin
Slowly I waddle over ice and snow
Back to the place my eggs are I must go
Up to the high top of a hill I climb
Down on my belly I will get to slide
I will quickly slide way down this hill
Now off the edge I fall although I flap
My wings no use in water ice I plunge
Okay though ice water my second home
My wings push forward water torpedo
Swimming straight up towards the icy shelf
Oh no remember got to check for leopard
seals, dodge left dodge right swim fast in fright
the surface breaks the ground I feel on to
my eggs I waddle still, again next year.
Snowboarding
Carving through white snow
Down this mountain I will go
Sliding through fresh powder
Lean left, lean right
Keep my speed slight
Carving through white snow
Swerving past a tree
Reaching out after me
Sliding through fresh powder
See that bump
Or is it a jump
Carving through white snow
Falling now at fast pace
And I am down on my face
Sliding through fresh powder
Roll back to my feet
Feel kind of sweet
Carving through white snow
Sliding through fresh powder.
Memoir Piece
I was in. I had been accepted. I was going to this training academy. A lot of people signed up for this opportunity, but they chose me. I felt like I had joined some sort of club. We were going to go to this academy to learn all about computers for the military. Apparently there are computers in the military now.
Why did they choose me? To be honest I have no idea. I have never done anything with computers. I’m from a farm; the closest thing we have to a computer is the stove, and I’m not even completely sure how that thing works. Either they just saw me and thought, “Hey, that kid would be good with computers”, or they thought, “That kid would never survive doing anything in the field. Let’s put him on computers.” Probably that second one.
Either way, I’m going. It’s pretty lucky. I didn’t actually even want to join the military, me and some buddies were just sitting around and one of them said, “Let’s go enlist!” Looking back, we probably could have thought this decision through just a little bit more. To tell you the truth though, it sounded like a really good idea at the time. We all jumped in Johnny’s truck to go to the recruiter’s office.
I set down the pen and feel as if I just signed my life away. I want to cry. No wait all the guys are here, “I want to go shoot some people OH YEAH!” What have I done? “Man this is gonna be awesome!” Biggest mistake of my life. “I am SO glad we did this.” I am a blender of emotion making a mixed drink on a beach somewhere. Unfortunately that beach is currently under attack.
Jump to me taking a test. I fill in bubbles because they tell me to. The military has soaked into my brain. I follow orders, I run drills, I practice firing, and I make my bed in five seconds. Today though, my job is to darken circles with my standard issue number two pencil. Why? Because I’m taking a test. What kind of test? I don’t really know. Apparently I’m not an important enough part of me taking a test to know exactly what test I’m taking or why. This is why they train us. Do what you are ordered to do and do not ask questions.
A few weeks later, I am notified that the results to the test are in. No one else knows about the test. They take me to a small room and sit me down in a small metal chair. A very large man comes in.
“Well, you passed.”
He leaves the room.
Jump to me being shipped off to some big standard issue grey warehouse. Inside are at least fifty computers. The hum of electricity and keyboard chatter fill the room to an almost unbearable level. This is where I’m going to learn all about computers. This is what my country wants from me. Go shoot some people? No. Punch keys all day to execute military actions. Do what you are ordered to do and do not ask questions.